


oh how the turns have tabled

by unseeliekey



Series: do not get blackout drunk [2]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/F, M/M, Mentions of Sex, but even then! be safe., haha funny fic but binge drinking is bad!!!!, im saying they were celebrating and dont do this a lot., im sorry about this one lads, tagging that bc getting blackout drunk is arguably alcohol abuse., the problem is i think im funny.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26206564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unseeliekey/pseuds/unseeliekey
Summary: “Wow, Akamatsu-chan bounced after hitting it? Did not think she was that type of person. Yiiiiiiikes. Sorry, Miu! Guess she woke up sober and was horrified by her life choices.”“Why would she be horrified?” Miu practically shouts- Kokichi leans away from the microwave with a wince. “I’m hot as fuck! My tits are wayyyy better than hers. She should think herself lucky that I even talk to her!”“Aren’t you the one who basically begged her to room with you after we left the first-year dorms?” Kokichi asks sweetly, setting a pan on the stove and buttering it. “You’re whipped, Miu, and we all know it.”“I am not whipped!” She insists, and he can practically see her blush through the phone. Kokichi glances over to the photo of one of Saihara’s newspaper clippings on murder they have magnetized to the fridge and makes eye contact with the convicted killer- you hearing this shit?
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Saihara Shuichi, Akamatsu Kaede/Iruma Miu, Iruma Miu & Oma Kokichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Series: do not get blackout drunk [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898803
Comments: 29
Kudos: 273





	oh how the turns have tabled

**Author's Note:**

> i meant to have this out a few days ago but i had several surprise social gatherings sprung on me! so.

Shuichi thinks he can feel all the aches in his body before he even really comes back to consciousness.

He’s in a weird state at the moment where he’s awake but he doesn’t remember waking up at all, and he genuinely doesn’t think he can open his eyes right now- whether that be sheer exhaustion or the frankly disastrous mess of mascara and blue paint gluing them together. His back is cramped. He’s laying in a really weird way- there’s something under his left leg, some cramp in his neck, a heavy weight on his chest making it hard for him to breathe.

And, oh god, his _head._

Shuichi tries to shuffle, roll onto his side or move his head off the- that must be the armrest of their couch, angled and pointy (where are the cushions?) and digging right into the base of his skull. He wiggles awkwardly like a turtle trying to roll off its shell- but all he gets is a groan and even more weight on his chest.

Shuichi finally manages to pry one eye open. Acrylic paint hangs from his eyelashes. He blinks, gaze drifting blurrily around the living room- he remembers stumbling back into their flat now that he’s a little more lucid. 

Sprawled over his chest and snoring into his neck, Kokichi’s fingers catch in his shirt and curl up. 

Shuichi runs a hand through his roommate’s hair and goes back to sleep.

\--

He’s woken up again some time later by the combination of something vibrating against his face and something punching him in the stomach.

“Hhwhat” he says, intelligently.

“Answeryourphoneasshole,” Kokichi slurs in reply, shoving at his cheek insistently. When Shuichi lifts his head (to more insistent cramping from his neck) he sees the “supreme leader” of the university chess club squinting up at him in simultaneously frightening and adorable anger.

Shuichi flops a hand over the couch for a few moments before he can locate his phone, still staring at his roommate. Kokichi squints back. 

After a few moments, he manages to locate the answer button, and lifts it to his ear, croaking out a “hello?” that sounds exactly as awful as he feels.  
Kokichi immediately plonks his head back into Shuichi’s neck, curls up and pulls at his shirt, and presumably falls asleep again, based off the snoring.

“Shuichi?” Someone says, and his dumb, never-should-drink-again brain takes a few moments before it clicks to _Kaede._

“Yeah,” he murmurs, trying to lift his head from the still awful corner of the couch without disturbing Kokichi. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

She laughs softly, the sound curling through the phone’s speakers. “Yeah, just fine,” she says. “I assume you are, too, then?”

“I’m at home with Kokichi,” he says, glancing down again. Kokichi mumbles something in agreement (probably an insult or a lie) and pushes his pointy little nose right against Shuichi’s pulse. He tries to pretend it doesn’t speed up at the gesture.

Kaede laughs again, although the sound comes a little more subdued than normal. “Of course you are,” she says, fondly. “I hope you two are well.”

Shuichi lets his head fall back again, ignoring the way the side of the couch digs against his neck. (Seriously, where are the cushions?) “At least one of us wants to die.”

“No different than usual, then?” She teases, and when Shuichi huffs air out of his nose in amusement, she lets out a heavy sigh. “Um, so.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shuichi asks, staring up at the ceiling. “You sound like you have something to tell me that you’re unsure of.”

Kaede pauses. “You could say that,” she says. “Shuichi, you’re a detective.” Once again, her laughter comes through slightly muted, shuffled through the phone. “Um, what does it mean when you wake up alone in a very fancy hotel room wearing your roommate’s clothes?”

Shuichi, sleep-deprived, hungover, and still a little drunk despite it all, blinks a few times. “I think you had sex with your roommate,” he says, unthinking.

There is a beat of silence.

“What? No- no, I didn’t! _Shuichi!”_ He can practically hear her embarrassed anger over the phone- if he were sober and standing in front of her, he’d probably be intimidated. Kaede is _scary_ when she’s cross. “Ah- geez, god. _No,_ we definitely didn’t do that. When I say I’m wearing her clothes, I mean… I’m fully dressed. You remember what she was wearing right? I’m covered in buckles and chains and things.” Shuichi hears something rustling, and then a groan. “All the spikes are digging into my skin.”

Shuichi’s brow furrows. He does remember Iruma’s outfit, actually- the leather bands over the long sleeves of her cropped shirt, the three separate belts, the spiked garters, the enormous, clunky boots. Not to mention the hair accessories. He remembers looking at her and thinking _that must have taken hours._ “Okay, that’s weird.”

“Right? I mean, I have no idea how it happened. No drunk person could manage the buckles on these boots- _sober_ me can’t manage the buckles on these boots.”

Shuichi shifts a little. Kokichi stirs in response, mumbling a complaint in response- Instinctively, Shuichi reaches down to rub his head, just a little behind his ears, and the man almost immediately melts against him, making a sound that could either be a purr or a snore. Shuichi smiles, and lowers his voice anyway. “What about drunk Iruma? She’s pretty good with her hands- she could probably manage it, right?”

Kaede makes a small noise in the back of her throat- Shuichi can’t tell if she’s agreeing or frustrated. “Maybe. But it’s still weird. I’m in literally all of her clothes.”

“Can you ask her about it?” Shuichi asks, propping the phone against his shoulder so he can reach up and run a hand through his hair. He picks it up again afterward, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. God does his head hurt.

“No, she isn’t here. I don’t know. I woke up alone. I’m so scared- what if when I go they ask me to pay? Or- what if someone says something to me? I don’t know! Did she drop me off and then just leave?” He can hear a rustling sound- Kaede running a hand through her hair, too, he imagines. “And why a hotel? Our flat isn’t that far from here, I can see _your_ apartment building out the window.”

“Kaede, it really sounds you had sex with your roommate,” Shuichi repeats blankly, feathering his fingers through the ends of Kokichi’s hair.

“I- no, I wouldn’t have done that. You’re projecting! Maybe _you_ had sex with your roommate!”

“Oh, he should have told me. I would have woken up for that,” he replies evenly.

Kaede huffs. “You are such an ass when you’re hungover.”

“It’s because I don’t care about anything anymore,” he tells her, still in the same tone. “If someone broke in and murdered me I’d just be glad I didn’t have to go to my lectures this afternoon.”

“That’s not what you said after the Tattoo Incident,” Kaede replies, her voice going sweet and syrupy.

Shuichi almost drops the phone directly onto Kokichi’s skull. Swallowing, he pulls his fingers from the dark hair and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Kaede, don’t _say_ that. His head is lying right against it, I- if I think about it too much I’m going to explode.”

“Haha.” Her snickering is very much unappreciated, even if Kaede really does have a pleasant laugh. “Well, I guess I-” she cuts off suddenly, and something falls, and then the sound goes very muffled, but Shuichi can hear the rustling of fabric and Kaede making panicked noises.

“Kaede?” He asks, sitting up a little. Kokichi snuffles and curls closer, which proves _very_ distracting for a solid two seconds before Shuichi remembers his friend is having a crisis. “Kaede?”

More rustling, and then the phone is picked up again. Kaede sounds a little breathless.   
“Sorry,” she explains. “I just suddenly had the horrible thought that maybe _I_ got a tattoo, too. But I think I’m good- unless it’s under all these buckles.”

Shuichi drops his head back against the hard ridge of the couch and squeezes his eyes shut. “Trust me, you would feel it.”

Shuichi, as of right now, has no further solutions to the Tattoo Incident. In other words: he found out how difficult and expensive it would be to remove a tattoo, and if he’s going to spend inordinate amounts of money to remove something from his chest, it’s going to be his tits. (Although he’s not sure how he would look a surgeon in the eye after they saw The Very Bad Tattoo.) Being trans has actually given him an excellent temporary solution, though- Shuichi used to not wear binders around the flat, but he sure does now.  
(There was a temporary panic where Kokichi found out he’d been wearing one for two days straight and seemed close from physically pulling it off Shuichi’s body- but then Shuichi, desperately, had asked when Kokichi had last changed out of _his,_ and in fear of being a hypocrite, Kokichi had sent them both to separate rooms to change. The downside of this is that Shuichi thinks because he’s binding more, Kokichi is mimicking him. It’s no big deal, he just… misses them feeling that comfortable around each other. But he’ll take a bit of chest pain over _ever_ letting Kokichi see the tattoo.)

Kaede blows out a breath of air directly into the phone. “Shuichi,” she says. 

“Yes,” he replies.

“Why are we gay and stupid.”

“We’re bi and you’re not stupid.”

“Awwww! You’re not stupid either!”

“Thanks.”

She goes quiet again, for a moment. Shuichi resumes petting Kokichi’s hair, tugging lightly at the ends of it and tucking the pleased noises he gets right down in his ribcage.   
“Do you really think she would have left me after we… did that?” Kaede asks, quiet and surprisingly vulnerable. Kaede is always good at being open with her emotions, but the fear in her voice is something Shuichi has only heard on a few occasions.

He looks down at Kokichi as he thinks through his answer- thinking both about how Iruma laughs nervously at Kaede’s jokes, about how she’s built her more than one unnecessary invention, and about how she’s one of the few people Kokichi seems to adore- about how Kokichi, untrusting, cruel, wild Kokichi, decides to fall asleep against Iruma and let her dye his hair and mess with his phone and his soda maker.

“I don’t think she would,” Shuichi says, lowering his voice a little. “Iruma-san might have her issues, but I think she’s very afraid of being abandoned. I don’t think she would do that to you.” He pauses, wondering how delicate his next words are, and then decides that he’s hungover and doesn’t really mind. “Also, the idea that she would wake up before you is very unlikely. She always seems to be hit harder by alcohol than you.”

Kaede lets out a soft breath, sounding more relieved. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I just got… worried. It’s not exactly how I’d like to start a relationship, you know?”

“Maybe you should actually ask her out.”

“You ask Ouma-kun out, and I’ll consider it!”

Shuichi feels his face heat despite himself, looking away from Kokichi’s sleeping face. “That’s different.”

“Mm, I’m sure.” He can hear Kaede grunt as she pushes herself up, and then the rustle of fabric. “The other side of the bed is still tucked in and everything. That doesn’t seem very… Miu. Especially drunk Miu.”

Shuichi frowns, gently pulling at Kokichi’s hair. “Is it possible you swapped clothes before you reached the hotel?” 

“May...be?” Kaede doesn’t sound particularly convinced by it. “Ah, gee, I just hate not knowing! I feel so… bleh. Unsure.”

“Has Iruma-san texted you?”

“No, but I guess she’s probably still hungover…” Kaede trails off, then lets out a heavy sigh. “Maybe we changed clothes and then split up?” She sounds so uncertain- it’s rare for Kaede to seem unsure of herself, but Shuichi can’t really blame her right now. The circumstances are… bizarre, to say the least.

“That seems likely,” Shuichi nods, humming softly. “Look, Kaede, I need to get up soon anyway, or I think the couch will kill me. Do you want me to come and pick you up? We could stop at a cafe and then I could drop you at your flat when you’re feeling better.”

“Would you really?” Once again, the relief in her voice is tangible- like she’d been hoping he would offer but was too afraid to overstep. Shuichi smiles to himself. She could get herself into all the trouble in the world, and she’d still be his best friend. “Oh, thank you so much, Shuichi, you really don’t have to-”

“It’s no problem,” he says, once again pulling his hand from Kokichi’s hair with a slight twinge of regret. “Look, give me a few minutes to get Kokichi off me, and then I’ll come meet you.”

Kaede laughs, and it sounds much more like herself now. “Cute. I’ll text you the location, okay?”

“See you soon, Kaede. Take care, okay?”

“You too, Shuichi!”

Shuichi hangs up, and takes a moment to stretch what he can, before he looks down at Kokichi and smiles. 

“You and your friends,” he murmurs. “Always getting us in trouble.”

\--

One moment, Kokichi is sleeping very happily, thank you very much, and the next some unkind and cruel asshole is gently rolling him sideways like he’s a particularly heavy cat. 

Kokichi hisses, as any heavy cat ought to, and scrabbles at Shuichi’s arms until he gives up on trying to lift him and just flops back into the couch.

“Kokichi, I need to go rescue Kaede,” the detective explains, and Kokichi ignores an irrational spike of jealousy because he’s fully aware it’s irrational. Instead, he pushes his face further into the crook of Shuichi’s neck to avoid the light hitting his eyelids and burning right through them.

“Kaede died five years ago, you’ve gotta stop clinging to this fantasy,” he mumbles. After a moment, one of Shuichi’s hands comes to land in his hair, because Shuichi is weak.

The trainee-detective sighs, gently tugging at the lighter strands at the nape of Kokichi’s neck. “Don’t be stupid,” he says, fondly. “She’s hungover and probably still a little drunk, and I need to go pick her up.”

“ _I’m_ hungover and still a little drunk,” Kokichi complains, lifting his head to give Shuichi one of his more intimidating faces- wild smile, completely dark eyes. “Who knows what trouble I’ll get into if I’m left on my ow-”

Shuichi pushes his hand right against Kokichi’s forehead, shoving him away. “I’m in too much pain for the supervillain monologue right now.”

Kokichi sticks his tongue out, trying to see if he can reach Shuichi’s wrist from this angle. He gives up quickly. “Then you’re too tired to go rescue blonde princesses. Let’s go back to sleep.”

“The couch is digging directly into my skull and there’s a spring in my lower back,” Shuichi whines, moving his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Kokichi’s ear- like it’s nothing, like it’s easy and natural to brush his hair from his eyes. Kokichi’s heart does a funny little _haha-die-of-a-heart-attack-at-twenty_ murmur. 

He resolutely ignores it, taking advantage of his clear face to flutter his eyelashes down at Shuichi. He definitely looks like an absolute mess, but that’s not the point- the point is the _spirit_ behind it. “We could just roll sideways onto the floor and sleep there.”

Shuichi’s expression twists into one that might signal something like intense pain or constipation as he stares down at Kokichi’s face. After another long moment, where Kokichi is wondering if there’s puke on his jaw or something, Shuichi bites his lip. “I- I’ll be really quick. I’ll just take Kaede home and then I’ll stop off and get some juice or something and then I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You spoil me,” Kokichi hums.

Shuichi quirks an eyebrow. “I’m aware.”

Kokichi acquiesces, rolling off the couch and onto the floor. He lounges there for a while, watching Shuichi hurry around to pull on a new shirt and coat, hastily checking his phone every few minutes. He grabs his keys and his wallet and glances back, as if to ask if he’s forgotten anything.

His shirt is inside out, but Kokichi’s not going to tell him that. Instead, he blows a kiss, and cackles as Shuichi’s ears turn red and he hastily ducks through the door with a mumbled goodbye.

Kokichi slumps against the floor, pressing his cheek into the rug. He’s kind of awake now- no going back without painkillers. 

So he stumbles to the kitchen to get some, and then, because he’s already up, he figures it just makes sense to start on breakfast- because they don’t need juice to make pancakes, and pancakes are easy, and he doesn’t want to wait. And he makes extra for Shuichi but it’s not like it’s hard. 

_I should go on one of those cooking shows,_ Kokichi thinks, licking batter off a spoon and sticking it right back into the mix, surrounded by chocolate chips and sprinkles. _Next item on my criminal agenda is monopolizing all baking shows and earning fame and adoration that I then use for evil._

It’s for the good of the world that his phone rings, really. Kokichi should never be given the power to be on television. 

Music blasts through the mess that is their tiny flat kitchen- _oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh my god, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me-_ And he doesn’t even need the custom ringtone to know who exactly is calling him the morning after their entire stupid friendgroup went on a massive bender.   
(And never tell her this, but it’s a good thing it’s her calling, because hungover Kokichi would hang up on literally anyone else.)

“Hey, whore,” Kokichi says, setting the phone on speaker and balancing it on the top of the microwave as he prepares the cream for his chocolate ganache. “Let me guess, you’re on coke and you need me to get American dollar bills out of your ass.”

“It’s too early to deal with your weird fucking hentai fantasies.” Miu’s voice comes through mumbled, still a little slurred. “You think I can afford cocaine?”

“I think _Amami-chan_ definitely can, and last I remembered, when we split up, you went off with him and the weeb.” Kokichi pours half a bottle of sprinkles into the chocolate mix, then sets it aside to tip chocolate chips into his pancake batter. Should he make eggs as well? He could definitely go for some fried rice. Do they have sesame oil? Kokichi’s kitchen is always a bit of a mystery to him. 

“Was I with Kaede?” Miu asks, and something in her voice has gone a little tight and sticky. Kokichi glances over to the phone like it might reveal anything more to him. His kuromi charm stares back at him, grinning. (Shuichi has a my melody one. Kokichi thinks this constitutes kindating.)

He thinks back to the night previous- it’s a bit blurry, but generally, Kokichi does not enjoy being particularly out of control. He’s only been blackout drunk twice- once when he first got his hands on alcohol and thought _cider is basically apple juice, right?_ and once a few months ago that resulted in The Thing That Didn’t Happen Miu Fix It For Me. So he can form a pretty solid timeline of what happened, even if pieces of it he only remembers in terms of how much Shuichi had been laughing and how pretty it was. “Yeah, you two were kind of clinging to each other by that point. Me ‘n Shuichi were going back home, and I think most of the others had headed back, too- oh, except Momota and Hoshi, who were going to a concert, I think.” 

“What time was it?” He can hear something creaking through the phone, like bedsprings- or maybe Miu’s joints. She lets out a groan. “Ugh, I hurt everywhere.”

“About two, I figure,” Kokichi says, moving over to the fridge to get milk and also soda. “Why? What happened?” He can practically taste the beginning of a good story, watching his phone eagerly. “Did you guys get arrested?”

Miu’s snort echoes through the kitchen. Kokichi pulls his nose up like a pig, even if she’s not there to see it- it’s the spirit of the thing. He’s a great friend, only they’re not friends and he hates her. “I’m not as much of a fuckin’ hooligan as you, shrimp-dick,” she says. “No, I, uh.” A pause. “I’m alone in a super fancy hotel room. And I’m wearing Bakamatsu’s clothes.”

Kokichi chews this information over as he pulls the top off his panta and takes a slow sip. He makes sure to swallow extra loud as he sets it down on the counter. “So you fucked.”

“No, dumbass, I’m still in my own bra,” she hisses. “And she’s not _here._ ”

“Wow, Akamatsu-chan bounced after hitting it? Did not think she was that type of person. Yiiiiiiikes. Sorry, Miu! Guess she woke up sober and was horrified by her life choices.”

“Why would she be horrified?” Miu practically shouts- Kokichi leans away from the microwave with a wince. “I’m hot as fuck! My tits are wayyyy better than hers. She should think herself lucky that I even talk to her!”

“Aren’t you the one who basically begged her to room with you after we left the first-year dorms?” Kokichi asks sweetly, setting a pan on the stove and buttering it. “You’re whipped, Miu, and we all know it.”

“I am not whipped!” She insists, and he can practically see her blush through the phone. Kokichi glances over to the photo of one of Saihara’s newspaper clippings on murder they have magnetized to the fridge and makes eye contact with the convicted killer- _you hearing this shit?_

“Darling Miu,” he says, sweet as anything. “You’ve confessed your love to her several times only to follow it up by calling her a three out of ten and an embarrassment to be seen with. Your romantic attempts are frankly pathetic to watch.”

“Oh, and this is coming from tatted-up-loverboy,” Miu bites back. 

Kokichi grits his teeth, pouring batter into the pan and beginning to cook the pancakes. “We agreed never to speak of it until you finish that laser-removal machine.”

“It’s fucking expensive, okay! I’m broke. You could at least fund my experiments a little more, considering I’m making it _for_ you. You’re the one who claims to have a massive criminal empire.”

“Whore.”

“Slut.”

“Twink fucker.”

“Pathetic gay.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you-”

“Coming from me? You talk such a big game for a touch-starved virgin, you know. It’s honestly kinda pathetic to see you start drooling every time Akamatsu-chan brushes her knuckles against your arm.”

“It can’t be as bad as watching you practically roll over and start begging for it whenever Shittyhara calls you on your shit.”  
“You’re delusional. Shuichi isn’t even my type. I’m only into partyboys- FUCK, I overfilled the pan.” Kokichi quickly tips the bowl of batter back, hastily prodding at the enormous pancake slowly filling the pan. 

“What are you making?”

“Pancakes.”

Miu’s whine, normally piercing enough as is, sounds like it’s threatening to blow out his speakers. “I want some!!!”

“Order room service, then,” Kokichi informs her haughtily. “You’re not _worthy_ of Ouma pancakes.”

“It says this place has a buffet- oh fuck me, Kokichi, do you think I have to pay for this place?” Miu’s voice pitches up at the end of her sentence, panicky and nervous. “There’s no way I can afford this!! I’m already blowing through my allowance with my latest project-”

“Well, if the place is fancy, you had to give them your details when you signed in, and you prooooobably had to pay in advance. What’s the name of the place?”

Miu gives it to him, and fills him in on a few more details as he googles with one hand and flips pancakes with the other- no, Akamatsu is nowhere to be seen, yes the room is still clean, there’s a waterbottle by her bedside, no she hasn’t drank any yet, yes she will now, stop calling her a dumb bitch. 

“Yeah, you gotta pay in advance for this place,” Kokichi confirms, scrolling through the hotel’s site. “And no, you could not afford it on your own. Check your bank account.”

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh go- Nope, last purchase was the sake. Huh.” Miu’s whining cuts off abruptly. “Do you think… Kaede might have?”

Kokichi moves his pancakes off the heated element and leans back against the counter, gesturing at the phone for no one really but himself. “Here’s what I think happened. We go out to celebrate Shirogane-chan’s fashion award or whatever. We pregame, ‘cos it’s cheaper. We hit three bars and a kabuki show. Momota-chan gets hit on by a guy in drag and we stop for food because I get hungry. We get kicked out of another bar because there are too many of us and we’re way too drunk. Angie pukes on the sidewalk and Tojo-chan decides to take her home. People start leaving, until it’s just you, me, Shuichi, Akamatsu-chan, Amami-chan, Shirogane-chan. We go to a karaoke bar. After you and I do our fabulous rendition of Bubblegum Bitch-”

“I remember that!”

“Don’t interrupt me, slut. Anyway, at that point I’m sleepy and Shuichi has remembered he has class tomorrow- today, I guess- and he takes me home. You guys go off to a bar. At some point in the evening, you lose Amami and Shirogane, too. You spill a drink all over yourself. Akamatsu-chan decides she can’t get back to your flat, so she goes and drops you at this hotel- which is in the center of town, and not too far from the bars we were at. After you get there, she swaps clothes with you, pays for you to stay, and heads back to your flat herself.”

After he finishes speaking, Miu is quiet for a few moments. “Then why didn’t she text me?”

“I don’t know, she was tired? Did you text her?”

“Noooooooo,” Miu admits, whining again. “I don’t want to. What if you’re wrong? What if we did something stupid? What if she left me?”

Kokichi resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Do you really think Akamatsu-chan would do something like that? I mean, at the very least, she should know that she’d have to deal with _me_ if she did.” He moves the pan back onto the heat and pours in the last of the batter, refocusing on his task. “Speaking of, if you need someone to superglue all her socks shut, say the word.”

Despite her earlier nervousness, Miu bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Is wittwle Kokichwi going to pwotect me if my feewings get hurt?”

“So if you need someone to superglue all _your_ socks shut-”

“Okay, okay, I got it.” She lowers her voice to a mutter, then perks up hopefully again. “Can I come over for pancakes? I don’t want to go back to the flat yet.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Kokichi finally reaches over to pick up his phone with sticky fingers, checking his texts and sending out a quick one- _Miu over made pancakes buy more coffee_ . “Shuichi’ll probably be a while, anyway. Just _don’t_ eat the stuff I save for him, or I’ll kill you.”

“As if you could kill me without breaking your scrawny little limbs in the process,” she mutters.

He smiles down at his phone, all teeth. “How about this, then? I’ll tell Gonta about what you said about his bugs the last time we were in his apartment, and I’ll let _him_ kill you.”

“Y-you fucking sly little bitch,” Miu stutters.

Kokichi blows a kiss at his phone, thumb hovering over the **end call** button. “Bye bye, whore-chan!”

He hangs up before she can finish calling him a twink again, turns off the stove after he frees his last (slightly burnt pancake) and goes back to whipping up his ganache and looking for the berry compote.

Part of him is now realizing there’s a flaw in his theory of what happened last night- Shuichi was going out to rescue Akamatsu, which would imply she wasn’t at home, either.

Oh well. He’s pretty sure he’ll figure it out soon enough.

\-- 

messages between **survivor by destiny’s child** _(you)_ and **cosgays**

 **cosgays:** looooooveyiu tysbm _(sent 3:12 am)_ _  
_ **cosgays:** i owe yuo so bad _(sent 3:12 am)_

 **you:** i’m sure, haha. _(sent 3:14 am)_   
**you:** get some sleep, okay? _(sent 3:14 am)_

 **cosgays:** zzzzzzzzz _(sent 3:15 am)_

_______new messages_______

 **cosgays:** oh my god taro i’m so sorry _(sent 10:58 am)_   
**cosgays:** i did so much stupid stuff >w< _(sent 10:59 am)_

 **you:** hey, we were celebrating! it’s no big deal. _(sent now)_

 **cosgays:** TwT TwT TwT  
 **cosgays:** what happened with iruma and akamatsu??  
 **cosgays:** getting home is a bit of a blur… i assume you took me, based on our texts and also the orange juice by my bed.  
 **cosgays:** (which is really sweet of you, by the way)

 **you:** <3

 **cosgays:** anyway the last thing i remember is making them swap clothes in a club bathroom. 

**you:** yeah…. why?

 **cosgays:** TwT couple outfit swap……… it’s always really cute and they’re both blonde….. >w<

 **you:** oh my god  
 **you:** tsumugi you have gotta stop trying to set up our friends.   
**you:** and me.

 **cosgay:** im surrounded by eligible singles ok!!!!! let me live vicariously through you guys ;w;

 **you:** you could always just ask someone out yourself?

 **cosgay:** sorry i don’t speak normie >w<  
 **cosgay:** besides, don’t you have bets out with like three people on when ouma and saihara will get together???

 **you:** as a responsible bookkeeper, i can’t answer that.  
 **you:** (but there’s still time if you want in.)  
 **you:** anyway, kaede and iruma are fine. after i took you home, i dropped them off at some nearby motels. 

**cosgay:** motels plural?

 **you:** the first one we went too was full ┐(´∀｀)┌  
 **you:** and don’t tell them this, but i needed to get rid of at least one of them before i went crazy.

 **cosgay:** goodness! were they kissing? owo

 **you:** they were affectionate! 

**cosgay:** in a “drunk girls on a friday” way or a “we’re eighty thousand words into the slowburn roommate au and they’re gonna do it any moment now” way? 

**you:** both?

 **cosgay:** if they dont get together i’m going to scream.

 **you:** either them or ouma and saihara. i’ll take either at this point. 

**cosgay:** someone needs to lock them in a closet…. Owo

 **you:** please don’t get any ideas.

**Author's Note:**

> said this in the tags but i'll say it again: don't get blackout drunk. waking up somewhere you dont recognize is scarier than i wrote it to be here and it's DANGEROUS even if you have really good friends. i'm calling dramatic license but still if you're ever threatened with alcohol, think: would miu iruma make a bad decision here? and if the answer is yes probably stop drinking. and be good to ur sober friends who look after you. more conversation about the culture of alcoholism among young people here in a buzzkill kind of way. have fun be young but also don't get yourself murdered.
> 
> also don't make bets on your friend's love life unless they're an attention whore. if you're my friend you can make all kinds of bets on me i'll pretend i'm shocked and mad but i'll secretly love it.


End file.
